


Past Memories, Future Hopes

by hinotoriii



Series: After Adamant [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 13:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3122633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinotoriii/pseuds/hinotoriii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Inquisitor Oscar Trevelyan visits Warden Alistair with news of their plans for Adamant Fortress and the Wardens, he can’t help but realise just how exhausted the Warden seems to be. When they speak, Oscar learns that it stretches much further than his concern for his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Memories, Future Hopes

**Author's Note:**

> Female!Warden/Alistair pairing. Oscar is just a rather intuitive Inquisitor. Well, when he wants to be. 
> 
> Some spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, especially for the _Here Lies The Abyss_ quest. I originally posted this to my tumblr, but since I've yet to share DA fic on archive, I have decided to repost it here also.

Oscar slowed his footsteps as he reached the door, listening carefully to make sure that he weren’t about to interrupt the Warden from other important work he may be focusing on. He stopped outside the open doorway, leaning against the frame as he took in the sight before him. 

The Warden – Alistair, as Oscar had soon realised back when Hawke introduced them – was sitting at a desk in the room he had been given, reading over something he held in his hands and oblivious to the others presence. A candle had been lit, and by the way it had melted halfway told Oscar for just how long Alistair had been keeping himself busy in his solitude. 

The flicker of the flame illuminated his face, and even from the distance between them Oscar was able to notice not for the first time how _tired_  he appeared. The area beneath Alistair’s eyes carried a deep exhaustion which could only be formed over a long period of time, and there were lines written upon his face which spoke of an old weariness that hung over him. Oscar felt that it was odd, seeing one of the world’s saviours’ before him looking much older than they really were, yet with how his own duties as the Inquisitor continued to demand more and more of his attention the deeper they fell into the riddle that surrounded them, Oscar was able to understand just a little bit where some of that tiredness could have stemmed from.

There was a second source for both that and Alistair’s concern too, however, and it was one that was known yet rarely spoken of in general conversation.

Oscar lifted up a hand to his mouth as he cleared his throat, making his presence in the room known at last to the other man. Alistair looked up, turning his head just as Oscar straightened his shoulders.

“I’ve just finished speaking with the war council. We leave for Adamant tomorrow.”

Oscar stepped further into the room, slowly making his way over to a vacant chair near to the desk Alistair sat at. He continued.

“Commander Cullen has agreed to provide us with some of our force and to personally join us, just incase we should need the extra support getting in. I am hoping, however, that things won’t become to drastic. But with Corypheus and the Venatori involved? We need to be prepared for anything.”

As he sat Oscar heard Alistair let out a sigh, and when he looked up again he noted how the Warden had put down the parchment he had been reading from before and instead had rested his chin upon his hands. 

“I hope we won’t need to use our force against the Wardens,” Alistair answered. Even his words seemed drained of all energy, as if a flame within the man was slowly dimming with each day that passed. “They are good people. They’re scared and they’ve been misguided, but they’re not the evil here. Some of those men I’ve either worked with or helped to train myself, I  _know_  them. Normally, they wouldn’t have resorted to this.”

“You hold them in high regard,” Oscar commented. Alistair glanced at him, eyes narrowing for a split second before returning back to the saddened expression he wore before.

“They are my brothers. Of course I do. Which makes what’s happened even more disgusting to accept."

As he nodded Oscar leant back in his chair, speaking no words in response. He understood, somewhat. The situation was awkward, and where one could easily blame the Wardens for what was happening – what it was that had to be fixed – it would have been unwise to not factor in other important pieces to the equation too. Oscar was still trying to get his own head around the situation, to level out the playing field and see what were the best options to take. That was difficult enough, but he couldn’t imagine how it would be if it were people he knew well.

“I read the letter you passed on to me, by the way.”

Pulling himself out of his thoughts Oscar focused onto Alistair again. The other man pulled his hands away from his face, staring down into the gloved palms before him as a heavy ache began to dawn across his expression. Oscar continued to remain silent, sensing that the moment was one Alistair needed to speak his feelings.

“She’s smart, that girl,” Alistair carried on, a twitch of a saddened smile tilting at the corner of his mouth. “Even when she’s Maker knows where, Lizzy still pulls through to lend her aid to the cause one way or another. Well, they don’t call her the Hero of Ferelden for nothing, after all. It was good to hear from her again after so long … but Maker’s Breath, I do miss that woman.” 

His voice broke on the last word, and joint with the pained look that was upon his face Oscar couldn’t help the way his own chest pulled painfully with sympathy. Alistair’s hand moved to clear his throat, obviously fighting on the oncoming wave of emotion threatening to take over, and as he did Oscar’s mind flashed back to the words which had been written on the letter he had received from the woman.

_Please, take care of Alistair. I would not go through such efforts to overcome our Callings only to lose my husband as he aids the Inquisition in this time of need._

“How long has she been on her quest?” Oscar asked. His curiosity had grown, and as there was still time left before having to make the preparation’s for the following days march, it was a good opportunity to get more insight into one of the men lending his support to them.

“Little over a year and a half now,” Alistair replied. “She writes when she can, but it’s difficult for her sometimes what with her search. I understand though, just as long as she’s safe in her travels. That’s what I care about most of all.” 

“That’s a long time for a quest,” said Oscar. He lent forward slightly, arms resting on his knees. “Not to mention a long time for the two of you to be apart.” 

“Agreed. But with the nature of the quest she’s on? It’s not surprising.” Alistair let’s out a breath of a laugh, shaking his head. “She’ll come home when she’s finished, probably complaining about the amount of mud that’s collected on her armour like she likes to do. And I’ll be waiting when she does. I’ll always be waiting.”

“I expect she’s waiting for that day just as much as you are.”

Oscar gave Alistair a small smile, noticing the edges of his own turning upwards slightly in response.

“I hope so. It’s still … strange not having her around everyday. After ten years being with one person, you tend to get used to that.” Alistair paused, reaching up to rub at a spot at the back of his neck. “I still remember the first time I gave her a gift. It was this rose I’d picked up along our travels, the only one I’d managed to find. I’d shoved it into my pack and fought with the courage to give it to her for ages, until eventually one day when she was sorting out the firewood at our camp I finally just … did. 

“I never expected her to love the flower so much. It was squashed, and I swear I’d pricked myself on the thorns whilst fumbling with it beforehand. But she kept it. She still has it, actually, even after all this time.”

“It didn’t wilt?” Oscar asked, raising an eyebrow. Alistair shook his head.

“Lizbeth had pressed it into this journal she carried with her once she thought the petals were going to fall. She asked one of our friends to help enchant it, just to make sure it stayed preserved, and that’s where she kept it. She still keeps that journal too, takes it with her everywhere. I think it helps make her feel as if she’s carrying a piece of her family with her, considering it’s full of various things like her brothers letters.”

“If she carries the journal with her everywhere, then she’s got it with her now.” Oscar said. Alistair’s attention turned back onto him. “She still has that rose, Alistair. And probably every letter you’ve sent her since you’ve been apart. It sounds to me like she’s keeping you close even while you’re far away.” 

A silence passed over them, and Oscar could tell that Alistair’s thoughts were with his beloved. With little else to say and sensing Alistair’s desire to return to his own thoughts Oscar stood, pausing as he began to leave to rest a reassuring hand on the others shoulder. 

“Get some rest if you can tonight,” said Oscar. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can figure out a way to help the Wardens and end this mad situation they’re in.  _Before_  Hawke brings out his sarcasm.”

Alistair let out a small huff of a laugh at the comment, the both of them knowing all too well how Hawke acted in situations that irritated or grated greatly on his nerves. Oscar gave a light squeeze of Alistair's shoulder before removing his hand completely, quietly leaving the room to continue his own work and preparations. As he closed the door behind him his thoughts returned back to the separated couple of Alistair and his wife, and with a brief thought Oscar hoped that after all was said and done, the two of them would reunite with one another soon.

After all, Oscar was no stranger to the painful ache a distance between loved ones could leave in its wake.


End file.
